At the commencement of the voyage, I took the first opportunity to call the officers together on the poop-deck, and privately instruct them in my ideas of discipline.
This was the drift of my remarks:
For some years past I have made it a rule that there shall be no cursing or blows used or given on board of my ship. In saying this, I do not mean that I wish sailors to be allowed to do as they like, or that I do not wish good discipline maintained. I have sometimes had to reprove officers for cursing the men and throwing belaying pins at them, and they seemed to feel that I had curtailed their rights. With a vindictive spirit, disguised by an air of injured innocence, they then neglected their duty and made no effort to keep the crew in proper order, saying, "If the old man doesn't care, I'm sure I don't." Let me tell you my plan of keeping discipline.
When we start on a voyage the crew generally come on board more or less under the influence of liquor. Some of them are all ready for a fight and do their best to bring it on. If you choose to have a row, it is the easiest thing in the world to find opportunity for it, and you know how frequently the occasion is seized, and the ship's deck is stained with blood before she is clear of the land. Now at the start, I say, Shut your eyes and ears to instances of personal disrespect, and do not use force to exact the performance of duty, unless as a last resort when the interests of the ship positively require it. As soon as you can spare men from work, get into their bunks those who are so drunk as to be troublesome and let them sleep themselves sober. You will often, or indeed generally, find that these are the best "sailor men" in the ship. It was the rum that made the trouble, and I believe the only successful way of fighting rum is to attack it before it gets inside of men. Drunken men are more easily controlled than we think, but it requires tact to deal with them, and, above all, kindness. I had a sailor last voyage who was roaring about the deck, brimful of fight, using his insolence to gain a chance to work it off. I stepped up to him, and he straightened back to return the expected blow. To his evident surprise I just laid my hand upon his shoulder, and in a kind but decided tone said, "My man, you go to your bunk." He fired up, and said in a saucy way, "Do you mean to say I can't do my duty?" I replied, "We don't need you just now, you'll feel better after you've had a nap, and we will call you to turn to just as soon as we want you." "All right, sir," he growled, in a disappointed sort of way, and tumbled into the forecastle. The next morning he appeared on deck as quiet and civil as any body, and during the voyage, after he got over a touch of the horrors, he proved to be the best sailor-man on board, and was always as respectful as I could wish. There are many vessels where he would have been off duty a week with a broken head, and then have needed a second thrashing to take the ugliness out of him.
After we are fairly at sea things generally go on smoothly for about a fortnight and then the sailors begin to try experiments, to feel their officers' disposition, test their strictness, and decide how much liberty they can take. The first sign of this is the neglect to give an answer to orders, or omitting the word "Sir" from their reply. They watch to see if this is noticed, and if it is not, they advance to other liberties, and the inch being granted they very soon take the ell.
When you find this state of things beginning, and a man ceases to give a respectful answer, check him for it in a manly way, and give him to understand that such things will not be allowed on board of this vessel. Do not curse him, nor strike him, nor threaten him in a way to make him ugly, but rather seek while maintaining your authority to give an impression of its justice. If he continues to repeat his offence after this, then punish him for it, by keeping him up in his watch below, by giving him disagreeable work, by stationing him aloft in the night, or by any little requirement, which will make him feel that he is controlled and compelled to do something against his will. If this fails to subdue him, after a patient trial of it, (for it is not to be supposed that every unruly spirit is to be conquered in a moment,) the thing to be done next is to report him to the captain. He is the only one to whom the law gives power to inflict punishment. If you undertake to use force you are in danger of prosecution when you arrive in port, and you are well aware that our courts are very jealous for the sailor's rights. The captain should then take the matter up and adopt such measures of correction as, in his judgment, the case requires. Very often a simple reproof from him will be all that is necessary, as showing his decided espousal of his officers' cause, and determination to stand by them. When this is proved, Jack will be apt to give in, but in an obstinate case irons may be the necessary resort.
Of course I don't wish to be annoyed with the report of every little misdemeanor or sign of insubordination; but when you fail to suppress them by the means I have referred to, then let me know about it. If you will adopt this course, although at first it may be too slow a method for you, I will promise you that when we reach home you will say you never got more work out of a crew, and never made a passage in which you took so much comfort, or which you remembered with so great satisfaction.
We gave the crew watch and watch, and Saturday afternoon was allowed them for mending and washing clothes. Sunday at 9 A.M. services were held in the cabin. Attendance was not compulsory, but as a rule all hands were present, except the man at the wheel and the officer of the deck. We made tolerable runs down to lat. 30° N., which we crossed in lon. 40° W., eleven days out; but here for a few days the "horse latitudes" assailed us with their calms. We whistled for the wind, wondered how Job would have acted if he had ever been becalmed, tried hard to be patient, and thought we were at the threshold of success, when at last the wind settled at the eastward. A steady freshening breeze proved we had got the north-east trades, and the log line, as it marked nine knots over the taffrail, enabled us to be patient without further effort.
Running along by the wind at the rate of eight and nine knots an hour, with a regular sea that gave only a pleasing motion to the vessel, and a blue sky enlivened by the swiftly flying, fleecy trade-wind clouds, we understood the reality of "the romance of the sea." Flying-fish continually darted out from under the ship's bow, the beautiful fleet dolphins ran races, constantly beating us and coming back to try it again, the fat, puffing porpoises occasionally tumbled across our hawse and went snorting off to windward; the sea was strewn with patches of gulf-weed, and Mother Carey's chickens tripped about amongst it as though afraid of wetting their feet while searching for food. There was always something to see, and life was never monotonous.
About this time I noticed that the first signs of the relaxing of discipline were beginning to appear, in the occasional neglect of the sailors to answer when spoken to. I watched to see if the mates attempted to correct it, as I desired they should control the men in minor matters, and I was relieved soon by hearing the mate call out, "Why don't you answer when I speak to you?" A brief "growl" followed, but the sailor, a Swede named Peterson gave in, declared he meant no disrespect and intended to do his duty.